


consenescere

by waterlit



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Brief mention of Kataang, Katara does what needs to be done, Old Fic, Post-War, Tragedy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlit/pseuds/waterlit
Summary: A fruitless war, and a desperate future. Amidst the chaos, Katara becomes venerated in time.
Kudos: 12





	consenescere

He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.

(Nietzsche)

* * *

_2100 years after Sozin's comet_

They said that the Avatar would protect the earth, guard the innocent, temper the seasons and govern the reckless behaviour of senseless monarchs grown bloodthirsty with the length of bountiful years. They were wrong. They said that the Avatar would not die unless the world died too. They were wrong.

Two millennia had passed since the coming of Sozin's Comet, and the world was greatly changed. Cities had sprung up and died, and kings came and went.

The anti-bending revolution had grown from strength to strength, gaining momentum in the poverty-ridden villages and the seedy underbellies of cities. In the intervening years it had gained legitimacy and influence; it had become a rock of terrible strength, a force unto itself and a fount of manipulation, rooted deep in all the surviving societies. Benders, meanwhile, hid in the deserts and the tundra of the north and south, waiting and hoping and fighting with the last of their patience.

And so the world was heavy with war—brother against brother and sister against sister; children too were schooled in violence, for that was the only way they could survive. Now men fell ever lower, for the guiding hand of men had gone and faded out of living memory. Everywhere men were in flames, for they did not understand evil and the nature of evil.

Now, the temples of the Avatar were shackled, pillaged or burnt away, and the lore masters knew that any mention of the Avatar was heresy, for the Avatar had abandoned them centuries ago, and his very name was now trodden into the dust.

* * *

_1900 years after Sozin's comet_

The darkness was alive, people said. Few but the bravest of the brave dared stir from their houses when the sun sank beneath the sea, for at night wicked things prowled unbidden.

The last Fire Sage in exile stumbled through the marshes, lighting a small ball of fire above his left palm. The night wind was cold, and he no longer had the energy to warm himself. There was a temple nearby, a shrine that was said to be the mortal seat of a goddess of immense power, and tonight he sought that sanctuary away from the prying eyes of his enemies.

He found the temple a short distance away from the end of the marshland; it was dark and dank, and rats scurried in the dusty corners. With a wave of his hand, the Fire Sage lit the lamps around the great hall. There was a raised platform in the centre of the hall, and an ancient statue stood there. The goddess still presided here, in this forgotten centre of knowledge and lore.

The Fire Sage knelt and did obeisance to the statue; his lore teacher had in years past explained to him the story of the goddess—she who had been named Katara during her life two millennia ago, a patron of the ancient waterbending tribes, who granted wishes and whose strength in healing had been unrivalled through the centuries. A quick prayer to her was said to soothe the soul and the practice of worshipping at her altar was reported to bring good health.

The Fire Sage arranged some ragged blankets into a tidy pile and closed his eyes beneath the kind visage of the goddess, ready for a spell of good and comfortable sleep.

* * *

_160 years after Sozin's comet_

Toph Bei Fong, old and grey, leaned against a thick metal stick as she walked into a giant theatre hall. She who had been a strong earthbender once, winner of the Earth Rumble, police chief of Republic City, was now bent and gnarled as the roots of ancient trees.

Her aide walked up to her, and she paused by the entrance.

"Has everything been done?" she asked, her sightless eyes still bright despite her great age.

"All has been arranged as you wished," her aide said as he guided her towards her front-row seat.

Soon, the lights dimmed, and the stage lights grew brighter. The actors stepped forth, dressed in curious costumes which had been the fashion in the days before the technological revolution. The audience grew silent as the narrator took the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the narrator said, "tonight we are performing the Lay of Katara, the brave waterbending master of the Southern Water Tribes. Tonight we also remember her death—twenty long years have passed, but still we remember her and still we honour her for having the courage to stand up to both the old Fire Lord and the Avatar. Some have condemned her bloodbending, but even they acknowledge that she saved the world from another war."

Toph leaned back in her seat, trying to find the most comfortable spot in the thick cushion. She was alone now, Sokka having passed into the grey-misted mirror world _beyond_ in the autumn of the previous year. She was the last living member of the Avatar Aang's gang, and she had commissioned the writing and performance of a new recital to celebrate Katara's life and death.

Brave in death as she had been in life, Katara was now celebrated in her native land, a symbol of the courageous spirit of the people of the sea. Toph had visited Sokka's homeland three years ago for the unveiling of an ice statue of Katara in the town hall.

Now statues of Katara had been built throughout the different cities and countries, for her story had spread far and wide, and the common people wanted to remember the woman who had first helped to end one war and had, in the twilight of her life, acted to prevent another. There was a shrine dedicated to Katara in Republic City itself, an elegant building situated right beside the Avatar's temple. Toph often wanted to laugh and cry at the irony of it all.

 _Oh spirits_ , Toph thought, how she missed Katara. Katara would probably still be alive if Zuko and Aang had not been blindsided by the petty quarrels of rulers, if they had been able to see with clarity the needs of their rebuilding world. _Not that I blame them all that much_ , she thought. _We all grew up too soon, too fast, and we never healed from the hurt we suffered as children. Twinkletoes and Sparky in particular._

Now, as the stage musicians drummed the melody, Toph wiped tears from the wrinkled folds of her pale cheeks, leaning forward to let her silver bangs fall over her face. She was old, and weaker than before, and she never felt more alone than when she listened to the tragic, sprawling tale that was the Lay of Katara. She, who had seldom fallen prey to her tears in the days of her youth, was in old age wont to cry.

She was mourning for the world, for her friends, and for those who had destroyed the sacred naiveté and joy of their childhood. She was mourning for the world, for the chaos that had enveloped it not even a century after the end of the Sozin's War, for the people who now hated benders so much that they had started an anti-bending revolution.

* * *

_140 years after Sozin's comet_

"I fear no one can stop them," Sokka said. "Toph might, but she's all the way in Ba Sing Se now."

Katara stood up, tucking her grey-streaked hair behind her ears. "I'll make them see reason."

"Are you sure?" Suki asked. "But Aang – Aang expects you to support him. And maybe you should. Zuko's not doing the right thing for sure."

"They're behaving very strangely," Katara said. "I tried to talk to Aang about it, but he wouldn't listen. He is usually glad to listen to my views, so I'm not sure—I—something about this situation is very wrong."

"Katara, let me go with you," Sokka said.

"Don't, Sokka. I'm not a little girl any longer."

"Of course you aren't. But I'll go with you all the same," Sokka said, rising. "I won't interfere too much."

Katara shrugged and marched out of the room towards the rooftop pavilion where Aang and Zuko were closeted at the moment. Sokka followed after, wringing his hands because of the tragedy of their times. One war was quite enough for one lifetime.

They came upon the old Fire Lord and the old Avatar shooting fireballs at each other.

"Stop!" Katara cried, pulling the water from her water skin and creating a barrier of ice between the two. "Stop fighting!"

Thus stopped in the middle of their battle, Zuko and Aang both glanced towards Katara.

Katara's usually gentle eyes were now aflame with anger. "Allies and friends should not be fighting!"

"Let's talk it out," Sokka suggested.

"Stay out of this, Katara," Aang said, his arrow tattoos nearly glowing.

Zuko turned his face to Katara; she could see the unprecedented fury in his amber eyes. In his aged face, Katara saw the young, maniacal face of the defeated Fire Princess after their battle. In Zuko's hard eyes, Katara saw the crazed delusion Azula had once possessed. She took an involuntary step back.

"Go away, Katara," Zuko said. It was almost a hiss.

"Zuko, don't do this," Katara said, stretching a thin hand out. "You're stronger than this."

Zuko shook his head, his half-crazed eyes opened wide. "You don't understand, you don't understand."

"We understand, Zuko," Sokka said. "We're your friends. Let's solve this problem together. Don't fight with Aang."

"It's no use," Aang said. "He's too far gone. I should have realised this years ago."

"He's not too far gone!" Katara said. "Zuko, Zuko, listen to me."

Zuko shook his head. "He comes to me every night. He asks me why the temple isn't up, why I lick the boots of other rulers. But I don't do that!"

"Of course you don't," Sokka said. "You've held your own all these years."

"He comes every night," Zuko said. "You don't understand! He's dragging me with him, always dragging me! He says I'm not worthy of the throne. He says he'll take revenge once I'm in the Spirit World! For the love of Agni, I have to build the temple."

"Zuko, those are bad dreams, merely bad dreams," Katara said. "Come here, let me heal you."

"No one can heal me," Zuko said hoarsely. "Ozai's temple has to be built before I die."

"You're destroying our hard-won peace!" Aang shouted. "You will drag us into war again!"

"Peace and war nip at each other's toes," Zuko said. "If war be our fate, then so be it."

Aang's tattoos glowed with a stronger light.

"Stop this!" Katara shouted. "No fighting!"

Aang was too far into the Avatar state to listen to Katara. He drew air to himself, building up a small whirlwind, and dragging sand into it. Katara tried to go to Aang's side, to drag him down, as she had done many years ago when Aang's immense rage nearly decimated a group of sandbenders, but she was older now, and her reflexes were not what they once were.

Zuko too launched his attack. The fight began in earnest. Katara, hearing the roaring wind and feeling the heat from bursts of fire, opened her eyes and blinked tears away as sand brushed the delicate tissue of her eyes.

She knew what she had to do, to restore the peace. There was only one way out.

Katara jumped into the fray, placing herself between Aang and Zuko, moving her fingers with precision. She shut her eyes, unwilling to see Zuko and Aang's bodies manipulated by herself as she bloodbent them.

Her name would go down in flames, but she would save the world. That was her last thought.

* * *

_139 years after Sozin's comet_

Avatar Aang frowned. "Zuko, I don't think what you're doing is right."

Zuko did not look up from the letter he was drafting to his representative at Republic City. "He was my father, Aang. I would have no honour if I did not leave a monument to his memory."

"He was a tyrant!"

"He was my father nonetheless."

Aang took a deep breath. "Zuko, have you forgotten how he treated you? How he burnt you? Have you forgotten how many people he killed?"

"I remember. He made a mistake, yes, but he didn't know better. Azulon and Sozin were not good role models."

"Iroh didn't turn out that way!" Aang said.

"Don't raise your voice at me, please."

"I'm sorry," Aang said. "I just—I just don't see how you might possibly think it's a good idea to raise a temple for Ozai. I mean, I get why you commissioned a statue for him—it would be good for history to have a statue of Ozai, but why a temple? Who would worship him except fanatics?"

Zuko sighed. "I have to do this, for his sake. For my sake. For the sake of Fire Nation pride. I have delayed this for years. Normally this is done right after a Fire Lord's death, and my father has been dead for thirty years. Can't we let old ghosts die?"

"Not when he tried to engineer a genocide," Aang said. "If we hadn't stopped him, he would have wiped the waterbenders off the world, just like how Sozin did away with my people."

"Can we bury the dead?" Zuko said.

"Are you listening to me?" Aang asked. "You know, I think this is how Roku must have felt when trying to reason with a man who was once his best friend."

"Are you comparing me to Sozin?" Zuko asked, his eyes flashing.

"Of course not, Zuko. But you need to see reason... I'm asking you this as a friend, not as the Avatar."

"As my friend, Aang, surely you see how important this is to me? To my country?"

Aang sipped his tea. "I wish Iroh were here. He would be able to convince you not to go through with this plan."

"I wish Uncle were here too," Zuko said. "I don't know what to do sometimes. It's not easy, ruling. I can see why my father went crazy over time."

"You've not gone crazy yet," Aang observed.

" _Yet_ ," Zuko said. "Don't you feel it too? The worry, the pressure?"

Aang nodded. "I do. Sometimes I wonder if I've done wrong by some people."

"I question myself all the time," Zuko said.

"Well, Zuko, that's normal."

"I feel like I'm one step away from turning into my father," Zuko said.

"We won't let you," Aang said with a smile. "We'll stop you if you ever develop insane ideas."

"That's good to know," Zuko said.

"About the temple..." Aang said. "How about you reconsider it? Or give it a few more years?"

"I—" Zuko nodded. "I'll give it a few years. You're right..."

* * *

_102 years after Sozin's comet_

Iroh paused before Zuko's desk. "Are you sure it's a good idea to continue visiting Ozai so often?"

Zuko shot his uncle a troubled glance, pausing through his letter. "Uncle, you think I should avoid visiting him?"

"I don't think you should go quite so often."

"Why?"

"Why do you feel the need to visit him so often?" Iroh asked.

"I...I want to know where my mother is. And I—I want to know how he became like this."

"It's a good idea to know your roots," Iroh said. He sighed. "But Zuko, you must remember, when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. Try not to become obsessed with understanding Ozai's nature. That would surely bring you and your realm into ruin."

Zuko let fall his brush. "No, I won't. And Aang wouldn't let something like this happen. Nor would Katara."

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on FFN in Feb 2015.


End file.
